All the Wrong Notes
by FredandGeorgeWeasleyareMYKings
Summary: Modern P&P. Erin Benson has always relied on music to distract her from anything and anyone.But she comes to find out that not even her passion can make her forget about the arrogant and annoyingly handsome William Dalton.
1. Prolouge

Prologue

* * *

It hadn't started out as a memorable day, as so many truly memorable days are wont to do. In fact, the sky had been rather gray and murky, a sky that didn't promise rain, but certainly ruled out sunlight. It wasn't a sky that Erin Benson was unused to seeing. In the small town of Heathrow, Rhode Island, the very place where Erin was born, overcast skies were certainly not an unusual occurrence.

She was eight years old, currently on summer vacation, and currently quite bored. All of her sisters were still asleep, and the treads of her tiny, bare feet on the linoleum floor of the hallway made a soft pattering noise as she ambled about. She was careful to be quiet. They always had to be quiet ever since the day their mother had come home looking gray and dried up. In fact, Erin couldn't help but see the resemblance between her mother and her old goldfish Figaro, the one who had managed to jump out of his bowl while she was sleeping, leaving Erin to find him the next morning shriveled and white, with a murky film over his eyes.

She wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, as children never are. The quiet of the house was almost unbearable and even then she wanted to shatter it. What she really wanted, even though she didn't know it, was an escape.

It was as though someone had read her small little mind, as sounds of barely audible tinkering notes filled the air, and like delicate wasps, the sounds buzzed in her ears. She quickly stopped her movements, intrigued and a bit afraid all at the same time. Certainly she was the only one of her sisters up. And her father certainly wouldn't be making that noise. And her mother would be resting. Yet a distinct noise was coming from the living room. It was a noise, a melody, that she had heard before but it was so long ago that she had a hard time truly understanding it. Still she was drawn to it, and like a moth to a flame, followed the noise.

Her ears led her to the living room, a rather spacious room with a TV that hadn't been used in months, and two comfortable leather couches. On the other side of the room, a grand piano was pushed up against the wall.

Her mother sat there primly, her back as straight as rod, in her pink bathrobe, as her fingers flowed seemingly like water over the tinkling keys. Erin watched breathless for a moment, shivering in her thin nightgown, even though it was June and she wasn't the least bit cold. The notes were a mix of light and dark, mingling into some gray area that mesmerized her. It had been so long since any music was played in their home, even longer since she had seen her mother play.

And even though Erin stood stock still and remained silent so as not to disturb the magic of the moment, her mother stopped playing and turned around, meeting her eyes.

Her mother's eyes were a deep brown, and in them was a sort of freedom that Erin couldn't understand at that moment. Her mother smiled down at her, which Erin wished she that wouldn't because it only made her look more like Figaro, with his misty eyes and crusty, open mouth.

"Good morning darling. You are up early," her mother said kindly, with an inquiring tone.

"And you are up," Erin replied, taking a step closer, although quite cautiously.

Her mother gave a weak smile. "I'm feeling better today."

Erin gave her a doubtful look, mostly because her mother certainly didn't look any better. Her mother seemed to notice because her smile became wider, and she let out a small laugh.

"Erin, would you like to sit with me while I play?"

It was the simplest of questions, yet Erin felt more joy in hearing it than she had in months, ever since her mother had first started feeling too tired to even move.

Erin nodded and approached the bench eagerly, as her mother scooted over to make room for Erin's small little body. She plopped down, and folded her hands in her lap, ready for her mother to release a little bit of the magic she had seen before.

Her mother's fingers were delicate and long, so much so that Erin had a hard time comparing them to anything else. They were pale, but smooth. They were the only thing about her mother that hadn't changed and grown ugly; they were the only thing that separated her mother from Figaro.

She hit the white keys, and then the small black ones so rapidly, the sounds gurgling out. Erin watched and listened in amazement as silence was transcended and transformed into something else, just by her mother's beautiful fingers. They could change things, make things happen.

Her mother finished her song. She looked to Erin again. "Would you like to play?"

Erin could hardly contain herself as nodded and extended her own fingers to touch the keys. She hit one; the sound was brutal and dark, forceful. It seemed to Erin that it was saying 'I am angry!'

She hit another further down. It was light, floating, without a care in the word. It seemed to say "I am a smile."

And as though her mother knew exactly what was going on in her little head, she asked, "The notes sort of speak to you don't they?"

"Yea, they do," Erin responded with a small grin.

"What does this say?" Her mother said as she pressed a note right in the middle.

The sound was pleasant and bright, leaving a joyfulness resounding in Erin's ears.

"It's like the sun. It's says it's sunny," Erin said quickly, and then felt a bit afraid at answering so fast. She hoped she wasn't wrong, because she desperately didn't want to upset her mother.

Her mother gave a reassuring smile. "I've never thought of the sun before, but you know, I think you are right."

Erin beamed.

"Would you like me to teach you a little song?" Her mother then asked.

"You mean play like you did?" Erin asked incredulously.

"Of course."

Erin looked down to her own fingers. They were quite stubby, not elegant like her mothers. She was quite positive that she would never be able to make the magic that her mother had. Certainly the piano wouldn't sound like that for her.

"You have beautiful hands. You can play just as well as me if you learn and practice," her mother said simply.

"What song will you teach me?"

"How about we do a duet? We can play together."

Erin liked this idea, and went about devouring every shred of direction that her mother gave her, right down to the name of each key, which were all letters. "Can we name them after how they sound instead?" Erin asked suddenly.

Her mother's soft smile returned. "Yes, I suppose we can."

Learning for Erin was quite easy after that, and she learned her simple part of the duet quickly.

They sat there playing their simple tinkling duet, until the sun rose high into the sky, and the other girls started stirring in their beds and making their way down the stairs for breakfast.

The other three girls entered the room, all so pleased to see their mother up, their pale faces beaming. She got up and made them breakfast like she had before, all while under the watchful stare of her husband. "Don't overdo it, Mel," he said, frowning as she flipped blueberry pancakes, much to the delight of all five of her daughters.

But Erin's father's warning was ignored.

Her mother not only made breakfast, but read to them all and played with them for a bit too. And all of the girls wondered if everything was alright now, if everything was going to go back to the way it had been before she had gotten sick. And just before their mother took a nap, she pulled Erin away and gave her a thin book.

"This is for you. They are my songs, and there are even a few empty pages for you to put your own songs."

Erin smiled up at her mother and embraced her with abandonment like she hadn't done in a while since she had been so afraid of hurting her. Her mother held her tightly and kissed her forehead.

"You never forget what those notes say to you, my little Erin. Someday, they will free you."

And although Erin didn't quite understand what her mother meant, she nodded. Her mother gave her another kiss, and went upstairs to sleep.

* * *

The next morning dawned gray again and such was a fitting setting. It was the day in which Erin's mother, the great pianist Melanie Benson, drew her last breath, and left her husband alone to care for five young, heartbroken girls, all under the age of eight.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

* * *

There were, for the most part, two distinct ways that Mr. Nicolas Benson could have handled his wife's untimely death due to T-cell prolymphocytic leukemia. He could have broken. That is, he could have become a shell of the man he once was now that the woman he had fallen in love with when he was just sixteen was no longer in his life. He could have shunned all five of his daughters, especially the eldest, Erin, who looked so much like his Melanie with her big brown eyes that it sometimes made something inside of him ache with sadness.

He could have done all of that, of course, and no one would have blamed him. But Nicolas Benson was not the type man to fall apart. He reacted in another other manner, the opposite way, by drawing together his rather larger family of six into one close knit bundle that he watched over most precariously.

There was Erin, the girl who resembled her mother not only in looks but in spirit. She had the same fire for music, the same eerie presence on the piano that his wife had had. She was thin and willowy, her big brown eyes full of zest that he hoped would never be quenched. Then there was Janet, named after his own late sister whom he had loved dearly. Janie was the sensitive one, the one he had the hardest time knowing and understanding. He worried for Janie the most. She was clearly going to be a little beauty, with her flyaway blonde curls and soft face, yet she had none of Erin's spark. Seven year old Janie weeped for weeks after her mother's death, and often took to doing things completely alone. Only Erin was allowed to enter her world.

Melly was third, the middle child, only four and rather short and stocky. She seemed to only be curious about death. She would ask questions about it to which he frankly could give no answer. He was vague with Melly, and he could already see her little inquisitive mind not accepting what he told her.

Yet it was easily the twins whom he pitied the most, the two year old babies, Lily and Katie, who would have to rely on mere photographs to try to know their mother. They had her music as well he supposed, but nothing was ever so powerful as Melanie physically before them. Nothing would ever replace her and Lily and Kate would never remember her.

He knew the road would present challenges, knew that he was a man who knew not the sensibilities of young girls. He had had one sister and had lived with only Melanie, and had had nothing to prepare him for such a feat. Still, he knew that he was not a man to crumple, that Melanie had certainly not loved a man whom would be defeated so easily.

The thought of moving crossed Nicolas's mind; the hope that maybe distancing himself from places and things that only made him think of Melanie would make it hurt less, make him miss her less, definitely took a tip grip upon him for a while. But they had ties to the town, life-long friends in the forms of the Luthers, the Knights, and the Olivers. Nicolas did not want to cut-off everything and everyone for a relief he knew would only be temporary.

So the Bensons stayed put in Heathrow, Rhode Island. Time passed, as it is doing now, and as it always shall. The girls got used to the looks filled with pity and Nicolas steadily ignored them. Many a nanny was hired and then simply disposed of by the rowdy bunch. It wasn't until Erin was eleven that Nicolas found the nanny all parents dream of. Her name was Sydney Blair, a petite girl with dark hair and thick lashes. She was a college student with a creative flair and happy mannerisms, attending a nearby university while living at home with her mother and father.

The girls all fell in love with Sydney and her warm smile. She taught Janie to paint, Melly to laugh, and the twins to make friendship bracelets. She let Erin teach her a song on the piano, although not the one that Erin's mother had taught her. That song was too special. Sydney was by no means the sitter with her phone glued to her ear; she cleaned, helped with laundry, and did a little bit of cooking. She was like an older sister that all of the girls came to rely on.

It was three years later, just three days before Erin's fourteenth birthday, when a second tragedy shook the Benson family. Sydney Blair was killed in a car accident on her way home from their house. Janie was particularly distraught, as she was easily the most attached to Sidney. They all shed tears, all thought bitterly of death, and all secretly wondered if there was some sort of curse in which every mother-like figure in their life would be taken away from them.

It was on that cold, majestic December day of Sydney's death, with the snowflakes whirling down, floating on a chilling wind, that Erin sat poised at the piano. She was wearing a black dress, one so loose it looked like a garbage bag over her small body. Still, Erin never minded about appearances, something which made her quite stand out amongst her peers. She had long ago learned the notes of the piano, long ago felt the power that she had only through them and the power that they had over her. Erin knew about music. Yet this was the first time that she wanted music to know about her.

Her fingers did a delicate dance, dipping into the sounds of a few notes, mixing and blundering. She tried the notes, each calling out to her something different.

One said smile, the other rain, the next, pain. She mixed them together, different patterns, different tempos, dipping her fingers time and time again.

She couldn't tell you how long she sat on the cushioned piano bench right by the window revealing the falling snow. She couldn't tell you how many combinations of notes she tried before she got it right. But she could tell you that it had been worth it.

She played 'Sydney's Song' at the funereal, a song that felt to her like Sydney, at least the closest she could get. It was a haunting melody and even more tragic and awe-inspiring because it had been written by so young a person. But music knows no ages or boundaries, and on that day Erin gave herself to music, and it reciprocated the favor.

There wasn't a dry eye in the church after the last note was struck.

And Erin knew at last that it was through music, and through music only, that she could make others understand her. She knew at last that it was the only way that even _she_ could understand herself.

* * *

~*~

The Benson home was by no means a scaling manor home with grandeur architecture unlike many of the others that were located next to it in the secluded neighborhood of Longbourne Acres. Instead it was a modest white building with two stories and large, cheerful looking windows scattered about. The front yard was wide and spacious, although nothing in comparison to the giant backyard, which was framed by various kinds of trees and, in the spring and summer time, sprinkled with wild flowers. And although tragedy had certainly hit the family, one would never guess by seeing the home. It looked joyful and light, a simple yet elegant home that always had music and chatter tinkling out from its open windows. The inside was decorated just as lightly and elegantly as the exterior, something which always seemed to surprise people who knew that the Benson girls had no mother.

Erin loved her home and her town of Heathrow. It was there that she grew up and went through many a trial and discovered many delights. The first and ultimate delight in her life was music. The second was learning.

She attended St. Luke's Academy, a small and local private high school and middle school located a mere twenty minute walk from her secluded neighborhood of Longbourne Acres. Rain or shine, bitter cold or blistering heat, she walked to school. Sometimes her sisters would join her, but other times they would opt out and ask their father for a ride if they deemed the weather too dreadful to walk in. It was something Erin could never bring herself to do; she loved the walk down the little path, loved the way it was displayed to her in every season. There was something almost awe-inspiring about how the exact same place could be so transformed in appearance just because of the weather. It never ceased to thrill her. She also delighted in her alone walks. It was a rare moment of peace. With four younger sisters all with various quirks and peeves, the Benson home was always loud. Of course, Erin herself contributed much to the noise not only with her spirited conversations and playful demeanor, but also with her music, which she practiced nearly everyday.

It was on the very last day of her senior year that Erin found herself walking alone to school. The day had dawned slightly chilly considering it was the end of May, and the overcast skies were so dark, they were almost purple. Lily and Katie, who rarely walked, didn't even consider it, and Melly hated the rain. Even Janie refused the walk, knowing she wouldn't be ready by the time they would have to leave in order to arrive at school on time.

Erin didn't mind too much, even as the cool wind blew her long dark hair around her. There was an energy surging in the air; she couldn't help but feel some of the electricity running through her own veins. The dark sky starkly contrasted against the bright green of the trees that loomed around her. Erin was sporting her bright yellow raincoat over her old and much used purple Jansport book bag, and with umbrella in hand, she strolled casually along in her polka dotted rain boots down the path that would take her out of the Longbourne residential area and into the outer circle of the center of Heathrow.

Longbourne was known for its manor homes, and she passed many along her way. Most of them were beautiful, but many were for sale and had been for as long as Erin could remember.

She passed the Luther's, home to her best friend and classmate, Carly Luther. It was a red brick, graceful building with sloping windows and enchanting arcs. It was much larger than the Benson's home, despite the fact that the Luthers were only a family of four. Pale white violets patched with purple stains were sprouting up everywhere along the gate that framed the Luthers home, painting a rather pretty picture and pleasing Erin's artistic eye for beauty. The wind made the tiny delicate violets shutter and vibrate only adding further to the humming energy that Erin felt.

She knew it would begin to storm at any moment, but the knowledge didn't bother her. She loved the rain just as much as the sun. Thunderstorms were even more fascinating to her; there was something special and almost haunting about them. Storms happened quite a lot, but each one was always different from the last. And she found that whenever she tried to describe them with words or music, their uniqueness often eluded her and refused to be captured.

Erin was just passing one of the many empty estates when she saw two moving trucks and a sleek, black car parked on the side of the road. Her interest was immediately piqued, and she slowed her pace, hoping to perhaps catch a glimpse of people she could only assume were to be her new neighbors.

The house itself had always been one of Erin's favorites. It was three stories, probably the largest of the homes in Longbourne, and it was painted a bright yellow color. There was a wrap-around porch, with steps leading up to it and a massively ornate wooden door. Strong, white and evenly spaced columns stretched up from the porch and connected to the third floor of the home.

It had always seemed like a beautiful, cheerful place, probably due to its coloring and the blooming trees which surrounded it in the spring time. Erin especially loved the mix of the ancient columns and the modern coloring. It seemed like the perfect balance.

A few workers were hurriedly unloading some small pieces of furniture and a few cardboard boxes, clearly hoping to get a few things moved in before the rain prevented them from doing such. Erin gave a small smile as she passed and received one back in return from one of the men, although it looked quite strained, as he was hurriedly carrying a rather large and seemingly heavy box.

The car that was parked next to the trucks seemed to scream money, but Erin had no idea what kind it was, and didn't pay it much attention. She knew that whoever her new neighbors may be, the fact that they would have money and probably way too much of it was never doubted. She had met such people all her life and was always a bit apprehensive about it. There were those at school who stayed well away from her and her family due to their lack of connections. The Bensons were by no means dirt poor, but they certainly did not have millions at their disposal. Most of the students, however, had no qualms about the lack of the Benson girls' trust funds, and there were others who were in the exact same position as the Bensons themselves. Still Erin couldn't help but be curious if there would be any people her own age moving into the house on Netherfield Lane.

As she followed the path down Netherfield Lane, the wind began to pick up, rendering her umbrella quite useless. Big drops of rain soon fell, and with her hood tied tightly against her head, they made a popping sound as they hit her. She walked briskly, and the drops picked up in frequency. It wasn't long before it was pouring, and the sound of the rain falling on the pavement of the road and leaves of the trees echoed in her head.

It was still pouring by the time she reached the school, but thanks to her rain jacket and her rain boots she had stayed relatively dry. There were only two large wet spots, one on each knee of her jeans, but she was not at all bothered by it, knowing they would dry quickly once she was inside. She made her way into school, calling out to greetings to a few friends as she made her way to her locker. She stowed away the wet raincoat, careful not to get any of her other things wet, and took out her flats that she had stowed in her bag, deftly slipping off the rain boots. She noticed with some pleasure, as she was getting her books, that she seemed to have beat the rest of her family in getting to school and had plenty of time before her day would begin.

"You walked _today_?" came an incredulous voice. It was a voice that Erin recognized immediately and she turned to smile at her best friend.

"Yes, Carly I walked today. I walk _every_ day. You think you would stop being surprised."

Erin found her best friend behind her, dressed simply in her school uniform, her blouse perfectly ironed. She wore her usual light dusting of make-up, her copper hair sleek and straight, and had her glasses perched on her long nose. Carly just shook her head in apparent wonderment at Erin. "I know. But I keep thinking there's going to be a day where you don't. Looks like I am wrong seeing as this is officially our last day of high school."

"And thank God for that," Carly continued, as she tugged at her long, blue plaid skirt, "I am so sick of this skirt."

"It's not that bad," Erin remarked as she pulled her own out of her bag. "At least we never had to worry about what to wear."

Carly rolled her eyes. She would have loved to worry about what to wear. Her closet was teeming with designer outfits that only got to see the light of day on glorious weekends. It just wasn't right.

"Can you believe it's our last day though? It's just gone so fast," Carly remarked wistfully leaning up against the locker next to Erin's.

Erin was stretching to reach her History book, though she doubted she would be using it. With all of her tests taken, today would be nothing but a freebie day.

"Do you even have any tests today?" she asked Carly as she shut her locker and turned the lock.

"One right before lunch. Then I'm done. I'm thinking about just leaving after. It's not like they will do anything. You should come. I told a bunch of people to meet up at my place."

Erin chewed her bottom lip, thinking over her schedule. She only had Spanish and History after lunch, two classes that she was already finished with. Both of her teachers were pretty lenient, and added to the fact that it was the very last day and that they would all just be sitting around in those classes anyway, she couldn't really see the big deal in skipping out a bit early. Carly made a good point; what were they even going to do about it? It wasn't like the administration could keep them from graduating just for missing one afternoon.

"Yeah, count me in." Erin slung her bag over her shoulder, and the two began walking slowly towards their first class, despite the fact the bell had yet to ring. Erin stopped by the bathroom to quickly change into her skirt, but it took a mere thirty seconds, and then the girls were promptly on their way, still discussing their plans for the afternoon

Carly clapped excitedly. "We'll have to stop by the grocery store and get some snacks for everyone. Oh and tell Janie to come too if you seen her."

"She still has a few finals to take," Erin replied simply. "But she'll probably stop by after school."

"Ahh, poor Janie. All of us leaving her behind," Carly remarked, with a sad look on her face.

Erin couldn't help but nod in agreement. It would be so weird not going to school with Janie and not seeing her every day. Being so close in age and sharing so many tastes, she and Janie had become extremely close throughout the years. They shared the same friends and many of their interests were the same as well. The only area that they seemingly differed was music. Erin was passionate about it, and while Janie could appreciate her sister's talent, she felt none of the magic when her own fingers grazed the keys. Erin had often wondered if it still took Janie back to memories of their mother, memories that Janie didn't like visiting.

Janie wasn't the only sister who had no interest in music. Melly, who was named after their pianist mother, seemed to go out of her way to reject it. Erin again suspected that maybe it was all in an effort to not be compared to their mother. She could understand how sharing a name with the famous pianist and composer would be more than enough. It was something that Erin herself often worried about too. She would be attending Pemberley Academy in the fall, the most prestigious music school in the country. Her mother had studied there and later had gone on and produced some greatly praised pieces in her short career as a composer and solo pianist. Erin knew she would be compared to her mother on a daily basis; the instructors there would be well aware of Melanie Benson nee Foster's legacy and would no doubt be expecting some great things to come out of her eldest daughter. Plus there was the fact that Erin looked almost exactly like her mother, with the exception of her father's dignified nose. She was nervous about the pressure that the constant comparison would bring upon her. Still, at the same time, she was ready for a change and ready to focus on what she loved most in the world; music.

"I'm going to miss you Carly," Erin mumbled softly. She had known today was going to be a bittersweet day.

"Stop," Carly declared, "We are _not_ going to be sad yet. We still have the whole summer."

"You're right. And it will be an amazing summer."

"Of course it will be," Carly said lightly. "We've got my graduation party at the cabin, not to mention everyone else's. It will be fantastic."

Erin smiled and agreed, already excited about the prospect.

"Plus," Carly continued as they entered their classroom together, just as the first bell rang, "My dad's old friend from high school is moving in next door to us. You know that yellow house on Netherfield Lane?"

"Yeah, I saw moving trucks parked outside on the walk over here," Erin replied, as she sat in her assigned desk in the front row. Carly took her seat right next to her, throwing down her bag unceremoniously.

"Oh wow, I thought they weren't moving in until next week. Well anyway, they've got two kids, a boy and a girl and then like a foster kid or something. I don't know, I didn't really get it. I think that like the other boy is their son's friend and he's just staying with them over the summer or something," Carly rambled on. "Anyway, I totally facebook creeped them. And they are both gorgeous."

Erin couldn't help it; she busted out with laughter.

"You've got to be kidding me. You are such a creeper."

Carly pretended to look offended. "Please, you would have done the same thing."

"Doubtful, grasshopper, doubtful."

Carly smirked. "Well I'm glad I did it. Now I know just what to say to make them both fall madly in love with me. And then they can duel over me, you know, fight to the death, like Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr."

Erin continued to laugh. "Yes because it's still the 1700s."

"Hey duels still happen. Case and point, Max Cramer and Jeremy Frank."

"That was a lunch room fight in which Max bashed Jeremy in the face with a tray over a piece of thrown food," Erin pointed out.

"Meaningless detail," Carly said with a wave of her hand, just as the second bell rang, and Mr. Leon rose to begin to teach a pointless lesson.

The day passed quickly despite the fact that all of the seniors did nothing in their classes. Most had already taken their tests and tied up all the loose ends of their high school careers. Many classes were spent with yearbooks being shuffled through and passed around, and with a few teachers popping in movies or putting on music. It was probably the most relaxed Erin had ever seen the teachers and her classmates. Yet considering all the hard work that had been put in to their four years at St. Luke's high school, everyone felt like they had earned the laid back and carefree day.

After lunch, she emptied out her locker. It was a much sadder process than Erin had expected and she had to ask the office for extra bags so she could take everything home. She met up with Carly and together the two proceeded to leave. The weather had changed dramatically; there was no trace that it had ever rained, it all being erased by the penetrating rays of the sun. Even the breeze was warmer as it caressed both girls as they carried their bags to Carly's dark navy Volvo. They threw their bags into the back seat, the sun shining on their backs.

"So who's all going to be at your place?" Erin asked as she clambered in the front seat and fumbled with her seat belt.

"Well I told Alison, Marie, and Joe and Ted. Oh and I saw Janie and told her to come after."

Erin chuckled, "I thought you said a small gathering? If you told Marie, the entire school will be there."

Carly shrugged. "My parents won't mind. Plus, Paul is getting us booze." Carly started up the car, and began pulling out of her parking space.

Paul Luther, Carly's older brother, was 21 and in college, but was never too busy to supply his younger sister. Erin had had a crush on him for ages and was only now getting over it, although she would never admit it to anyone.

"Is Paul going to be there then?" Erin asked casually, hoping she wouldn't give herself away by looking too interested.

"Nah, he's just gonna stop by. I just need him to get mom and dad out of the house. I'm sure they'll be cool with it all. I just don't really want them there."

"My dad would kill me," Erin said simply.

"Yeah right, you're his favorite. And don't even try to deny it."

Erin just smirked because she knew Carly was right.

* * *

~*~

Like Erin had predicted, the gathering turned out to be rather big. The large living room of the Luther's home was full of teenagers celebrating the end of an important stage of their life. Music was played and danced to, drinks were poured and consumed, and laughter danced around the room as nimbly and swiftly as a woodland sprite. Thankfully, the likelihood of the party being discovered or the noise disturbing anyone was slim due to the secluded location of the Luther's home. It was really the perfect place for a large party. Mr. and Mrs. Luther had no qualms about leaving, entrusting their daughter with their home, as long as her older brother stayed to make sure nothing got out of hand. Paul did so willingly, chatting with many of the guys about sports and even talking to a few of the girls, Erin herself included among them.

Erin looked around from where she sat on the leather couch. To her left, the furniture had been cleared and pushed against the wall in an attempt to create a make-shift dance floor. A few of her classmates were twirling about, some that she knew well, and others that she didn't know really at all. There were a few people there that didn't like each other and that she herself wasn't overly fond of; still everyone seemed to be entirely content. It was as though the alcohol and the fact that they were all in the exact same position – somewhere between being excited for the rest of their lives and absolutely scared stiff – bonded them despite their other differences. Not a harsh word had been exchanged all night, making the atmosphere festive and merry.

The music was loud and thumping, and although it wasn't what Erin would call good music, she didn't mind it, and tapped her foot to the convoluted and overused beat as she sat next to Janie and Carly on the leather couch. Erin sighed and wished she would have been able to convince Melly to come along, but her younger sister had no desire to put down her rather old and beaten copy of _Pride and Prejudice _down. Of course, Lily and Katie were much too young to come, although they had surely wanted to. Of course, her father had put a stop to that immediately. Erin and Janie were only just barely allowed to stay after Erin had confessed over the phone that there was alcohol present. Erin wasn't a big partier, something that also made her stand out in comparison to many of her peers. Today, though she had had a few drinks, nothing too strong, in honor of the occasion and was trying not to think about the past or the future, but instead just the now. She, Carly, and Janie were watching the others in amusement, a sense of well being and happiness spreading over all of them as they casually chatted about nothing important.

Erin knew it was going to be moments like this that she would miss; Carly snorting in response to something Janie had said quite innocently without realizing how badly it could be misconstrued, Janie denying the advances of nearly every guy at the party in the sweetest way possible all while she resembled a tomato. Erin smiled and stirred her punch. She would miss it.

It was then that the doorbell rang, and Carly shot up like a bullet to answer it, a delighted look crossing her face. She ran off, disappearing behind the heads of people, and Janie and Erin continued their conversation, laughing loudly and often.

Carly wasn't gone long, and had three people trailing behind her as she reentered the room. She was talking animatedly, and from what Erin could see, only one of them even seemed at all interested in what she was saying. He had red hair and freckles and a pointy chin. He was smiling, and looked quite adorable from where Erin was sitting. His clothes were much more casual than either of his companions; he seemed to fit in while the other two noticeably stood out. The girl beside him had matching red hair, but no freckles were visible. Whether or not this was because she had none or they were hidden under make-up, Erin couldn't tell. However, if she would have had to hazard a guess she would have suspected that make-up was covering them – the girl was wearing a lot of eye make-up and looked like the type that would hide anything others considered a flaw. She was really quite beautiful; she had a slender body, wrapped in fancy, short green dress, and arched highbrows. Her cheekbones were to die for. However, she looked less than thrilled to be there, and picked at her clearly well cared for fingernails while Carly spoke.

When Erin's eyes fell on the last of the little group, she was taken aback. He was physically very striking and reminded her of some tragic Greek hero, with his dark hair that curled just a little bit at the very ends, framing his face. He had a strong, square jaw, round blue eyes, and broad shoulders. He seemed to be scanning the entire room, his face expressionless. His eyes met hers, but passed her by quite quickly; she seemingly wasn't worth a lingering look or a second glance. He was also dressed a bit more formally, and looked stiff and extremely uncomfortable in his white button up and slacks.

She looked away, only to see that Janie was staring in the same direction.

"Who are they?" Janie asked, the interest clear in her eyes.

"No idea," Erin said simply, returning her gaze to them, only to see Carly signaling wildly for them to come over and join her.

"Looks like we'll find out now," Janie remarked as she stood. Erin followed.

"Just a few more of your neighbors," Carly said to the group of three as Erin and Janie approached.

"Janie, Erin, this is Clay, his sister Carrie, and his friend William," Carly said, gesturing to each person as she named them off. "They just moved into the place on Netherfield."

Erin had to hold back a bark of laughter. _These_ were the guys that Carly had facebook creeped! It was almost too perfect for them to be at this party. Taking another look at both of them, she had to agree with Carly's assessment. Both of them were quite good-looking, although she definitely would admit that William was much more of her type.

"Nice to meet you," Clay said warmly, his adorable grin back in place as he extended a hand first to Janie and then to Erin. Both girls reciprocated the gesture and smiled back. Carrie gave a small smile, while William just gave a nod, blank expression still in place.

"So where did you guys move from?" Erin asked, trying to be polite and strike up a conversation.

"New York City, actually," Clay said mildly.

"So this isn't much of a change then," Erin said with a smirk, her sarcasm heavy.

"No, not at all," Clay replied with a laugh.

"Heathrow isn't too bad," Erin admitted then, "But I'm not sure it can compete with New York City."

"It absolutely can't," Carrie interjected, looking at Erin as if she were mentally insane for even bringing the comparison to light. "I miss the city already."

Erin nodded, not really sure what to say. Thankfully, Carly as the perfect hostess, took over.

"Would you guys like anything to drink? We've got some wop and beer in the fridge, I can grab some for you."

"I'll take a beer," Clay replied, speaking to Carly, but staring straight at Janie – not that Erin was surprised. Most people tended to stare at Janie upon first meeting her. Janie was absolutely gorgeous, something she would never believe no matter how many times Erin insisted on it. She has a softness about her that was instantly appealing – it was something that Erin could only describe as a summer breeze. That's what Janie looked like. Her skin was freckled, but so lightly you could hardly tell, and her long blonde hair was curly and wispy, and as golden as straw. The angles of her face were smooth and symmetrical, her eyes a deep blue, eyes that she had inherited from their father. The only resemblance that the two sisters shared was the same lightly freckled skin.

Carrie shook her head in response to Carly's offer while William mumbled a forced and stiff sounding "No thank you." His voice had an accent that Erin couldn't place, and it was just subtly noticeable. She wondered just where he had lived before New York. She thought to ask him, but took one look at him and decided against it. His face showed clearly just what he thought; he looked as though he would rather be anywhere else than where he currently was.

"Janie, Erin, you want anything?" Carly asked as she began to step away and head towards the kitchen.

Janie shook her head, while Erin responded that she was fine. Carly disappeared into the kitchen leaving the five of them behind. Clay was the first to break the silence. "So Carly said it was the last day of classes. Excited for graduation?"

"Definitely," Erin remarked. "As fun as high school was, I am ready to move on to bigger things." It was a true statement, of course. Clay nodded and looked as though he knew just how she felt.

"I've still got one more year left," Janie said a bit sadly, with a small smile playing about her lips.

"Oh so you're only … what… seventeen?" Clay asked incredulously. Erin couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be a little bit disappointed.

"Yeah," Janie said a bit unsurely.

"Sorry, I'm just... just really surprised. You look much older."

Janie laughed good-naturedly. "It's okay, I get that a lot. Everyone always thinks I'm the oldest sister, and not Erin."

"Oh... you two are sisters?" Clay asked, again the surprise was evident in his tone, which only caused both sisters to let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, can't you tell?" Erin smirked.

"Honestly, not at all," Clay admitted.

"Don't worry, definitely not the first time we've heard that. None of us really look alike though," Janie admitted.

"You have more siblings?" Clay asked, clearly interested and still staring straight at Janie. Erin could tell that he was trying to split his attention between the two of them, but that his eyes seemed to just be drawn to Janie. Janie surprisingly seemed to be enjoying the intense staring. Normally she would clam up and quickly make an excuse to get away. Now, however, her eyes were bright and smile was genuine.

"We have three other sisters," Janie replied cheerfully.

"So there are _five_ of you?" Carrie snapped in suddenly. She said it in the most condescending way possible, and Erin could feel herself growing irritated.

"Yes," Erin answered shortly.

"God, I can't imagine having _that_ many siblings," She said disdainfully.

Erin looked at her incredulously but wisely chose not to comment. She doubted it was even worth it. The girl seemed stuck up and was looking at Erin and Janie as though they were gum on the bottom side of her shoes. Erin had learned long ago that it was better to just not deal with those types of people – they were never going to change their minds and they probably weren't worth getting to know anyway.

"I'm sort of jealous – I always wondered what it would be like to have a big family," Clay said, and he seemed to genuinely mean it. Erin couldn't help but smile at him, already deciding that she like him. He seemed like a good type of guy, and Erin's judgment had yet to disappoint her. She was normally good at reading people and prided herself on it.

Carly appeared with Clay's beer in one hand, and the other one holding a glass of wop for herself. "Here you go," she said with a smile, and he returned the grin as he took the can. A newer song came on through the stereo system and a few girls squealed and jumped up to dance, yanking any guy they could grab.

"Oh, good song," Janie remarked casually.

Clay smiled. "Would you like to dance?"

Janie was practically glowing, as she nodded, and Clay led her to the area that had been cleared for dancing space. Carly looked a bit put out by this development and Erin had to stifle a laugh as Carly instead turned her attention to William.

"What about you, Will? Are you up for a dance?" she asked playfully.

He turned to glare at her. "Not all. And it's William." His tone was brisk, and rather rude, and Erin arched an eyebrow at him. _Is this guy for real? What an ass_.

Carly seemed to think so too as her usual playful demeanor turned much colder. "Sorry, _William_."

"He doesn't dance," Carrie commented stating it as though such an activity was simply barbaric. "Neither do I."

"Parties must be pretty boring for you both then," Erin replied, grabbing Carly's hand, seizing the opportunity to getting away from these self-righteous people. "Would you like to dance with me, my lovely lady?"

Carly snorted. "Why, of course."

They left William and Carrie as quickly as was physically possible without breaking out into a run, laughing the entire way. When they got to the make-shift dance floor, Erin spun Carly around, eyes sparkling with mirth as Carly laughed. A few other classmates laughed along at their wild antics.

"God! They are so _full_ of themselves," Carly said over the music, as Erin was doing a wild rendition of the sprinkler. "Thank you for pulling us away."

Erin nodded and looked up, only to make eye contact with William across the room. She could only imagine what he thought of her; he was looking at her as though she was an idiot, as though she were out of her mind for dancing in such a fashion. She wondered just what he would do if she gave him the finger. _I doubt he's even worth that… although it is a pity because he is so beautiful._ She broke the gaze quickly and turned her attention back to Carly and the music, her feet pumping beneath her and the rhythm bouncing her ears.


	3. Chapter 2

Hello! I'll use this space to say a huge thank you to all who have reviewed and have given words of encouragement. Thank you so much, it means quite a lot to me. Also, I want to just say here that Erin is not going to be the only character developed throughout this story. I really love the character of Kitty in the novel (Katie here I suppose) and her potential – I think that fact that Austen leaves her so underdeveloped is probably the biggest flaw in the novel. Not that I am any better than Austen (I wish!), but I want to at least attempt to give Kitty something of substance and show her as she grows up.

Chapter 2

* * *

Saturdays meant a few things to Melly Benson. First and foremost, it was a day where she woke with the sun. It was a sort of therapy, she supposed, to watch the sun come up over the horizon. She would sit on her favorite wicker chair in the backyard and watch as everything was transformed around her. The sky was always different; that was her favorite part. It seemed to denote just what sort of day the world had in store for her. The days where pink and orange streaks cut through the sky would be the good days, the cool days with just a hint of spring. Today, however, the sky was ruddy and red; a day that promised heat and stickiness, two of Melly's least favorite things. Then again, there wasn't much that Melly really liked.

Secondly, Saturdays meant pancakes. It was the Benson's only real family tradition, and for some reason, though she could never discover why, she looked forward to it every week, and even more so as she grew older. Perhaps it was because Melly knew, just like Erin, that soon, their numbers for pancake breakfast would begin to dwindle, and soon, Melly would be forced to grow up.

Thirdly, Saturdays stood as peace for Melly. She woke hours before anyone else in her family stirred and she was left to read or study in peace. It had never struck her odd that she sought to escape in classic literature and fantastical lands even when the world really was right in front of her, ready to bend to her whims; it had been what Melly had done for as long as she could remember and she wasn't one to break out of habits.

The day did turn out to be sticky, much warmer and muggier than the previous day had been. Erin woke feeling grimy, with sheen of sweat on her forehead. She woke late, but could hear her father moving about in the kitchen below her. He was singing, and Erin listened with a smile. Her father had an amazing voice. It was what had originally brought her parents together; Nicolas Benson could belt it out like the best of them while Melanie Foster had the piano playing fingers of an angel.

She sat up, stretching slowly, the smell of the breakfast below reaching her, making her stomach grumble in anticipation. She slowly made her way down the stairs, still groggy from her sleep; it hadn't been long. She and Janie had stayed out until 1:00 AM, a curfew they rarely employed. Normally, Janie was the first to get uncomfortable or sleepy with the surroundings, and Erin, like the protective older sister she was, would do whatever Janie insisted. But last night had been different. Janie had _wanted_ to stay.

Erin couldn't help but smirk. _Clay Barrick may have had something to do with that._ And it was true. Janie seemed to be enraptured with the guy already, something that Erin found endearing and a little bit worrisome at the same time. Of course, Clay seemed like a great guy. He was just a tad bit older than she had first expected. Twenty-one. _It's not that big of a deal,_ Erin reasoned as she shuffled through the living room, towards the kitchen. _You've had a crush on Paul for forever, and he's twenty-one. And Janie is seventeen. Four years is hardly anything._ Even though Erin's reason told her all of that and more, she couldn't help but feel a little anxious; unlike her crush on Paul, Janie's crush on Clay seemed to be returned with just as much intensity, if not more.

She pushed the thoughts away. As long as Janie was happy, she was happy. Her younger sister was delicate and shy, always had been. Maybe a relationship with Clay would help her open up more. Erin pushed open the swinging door to enter the kitchen. The sun was streaming through the windows, lighting up the entire room. The Bensons kitchen had white walls with blue and yellow diamond tiled floors. The counters matched the floors, and potted plants lined the window sills – they all belonged to and were cared for by Janie. A few were even beginning to sprout flowers. There was an island located in the middle of the room, just behind the older white oven, and right across from the chrome refrigerator that their father had gotten just that past year. The dining room table was large and white, pushed aside towards the corner of the room, in front of the two French doors that led to the backyard. Through the doors, one could see the extensive backyard, the wicker-piece furniture set, and the new day beginning before them.

Her father looked up from the frying pan as she walked in. He smiled at her, almost in a sort of laughing way as he noticed her weariness. The counters were a mess next to him, with bowls, egg shells and measuring cups spread out everywhere. Pancakes were his specialty, and he went all out with his homemade recipe. All of the girls loved them.

"Good morning sleeping beauty." He said it lightly as he flipped over a pancake with ease.

She gave him a hard look, knowing she was certainly no beauty this morning. "Good morning." It came out a lot harsher than she meant it to, but her father just laughed in response.

"Will you set the table?"

"Yeah, sure," Erin replied, bee-lining for the cupboards.

"So did you girls have fun? I was mildly disappointed when I didn't hear anyone stumbling or vomiting in the bathroom when you got home last night," Nick remarked casually, a smile playing about his face.

Erin snorted as she gathered a stack of six plates. "Yeah we both puked at Carly's place. Sorry to disappoint."

"Well, I'll thank Janie later for at least forcing you to respect your curfew."

"Other way around," Erin smirked. Then she bit her lip wondering if Janie wanted their father to know anything about Clay Barrick. Still, Erin had never lied to her father. Sure she hadn't always told him the complete truth. Like when she was in sixth grade and one of the wealthier students had mocked her mercilessly about her designer-less outfit, and she had punched her in the face, Erin had told her father that she had just been having a bad day. She didn't want him to feel guilty for not spending a small fortune on her clothes, and she could deal with the teasing herself. She had certainly proved that. The next year, when St. Luke's instilled the new rule of uniforms, it was like a load had been taken off of her small shoulders.

Her father turned to face her. "_Janie_ wanted to stay?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Erin said softly, not meeting his eye as she set the plates down on the long, white-oak table.

"Well that's a tad surprising. Was she drugged?"

"Maybe by love," Erin remarked with another smirk, going back to the drawer to get out the silverware.

"Ahh, the world makes sense again. So it's a boy. I always feared this moment."

Erin smiled, seeing that her father was somewhat serious. "His name is Clay. He seems really nice, his family just moved into that yellow house on Netherfield Lane."

"Oh, Doctor Barrick's son? Joe Luther was telling me about him, apparently he grew up here and the two of them were friends back in high school."

"Yeah, Carly mentioned that actually," Erin said as she set the forks down, got the napkins, and went back for the glasses.

Melly entered the kitchen a bit stormily, her curly hair frizzy and mangled. She had a feverish look about her, something that Melly nearly always had. She had much more spunk than even Erin, seemingly making up for Janie's lack thereof. Of course, not one of the girl's could even begin to compete with Lily when it really came down to spunkiness. Lily could look a raging, angry bull in the eye, the ugliest, meanest bull you could find, and the twelve year old girl would barely bat an eyelash.

Melly's eyes were stormy, and she nearly slammed her book – this time a rather monstrous copy of _Gone with the Wind _- down as she sat at the table. Nick raised an amused eyebrow; if there was one thing he learned about dealing with his teenage daughters, it was never to take anything too seriously. He learned long ago that many things passed easily enough on their own. He had also learned that each of his daughters had their own tendencies; some could even call it flaws, but he certainly wouldn't. Erin's was simple enough; she was a harsh judge, and once her mind was made up, she wouldn't relent. It had been nearly the same with her mother. Janie had a tendency to be offended by nearly everything he said, and sometimes things that he didn't even say. She was still sensitive, and he had long ago accepted that she always would be. Melly, on the other hand, was rash and tended to sweat the small stuff. She was studious, cared more about her grades than any of the girls combined and seemed to want to prove herself to everyone. Just why she had such a giant chip on her shoulder, he had no idea. Perhaps it was his fault.

Lily was loud and even more rash than Melly. She had a flair for the dramatics and more often than not gave him a headache. Lily was the one he was always disciplining for this or that, and he knew that before long she would rebel against him. He feared it, yet at the same time welcomed it; he knew it would happen sooner or later no matter what he did. He had been much of the same way with his own parents. Katie though was the one he now worried about the most. She seemed to feed off others, as if her own personality was non-existent. She mostly looked to Lily for direction due to their natural closeness as identical twins. She always seemed a little lost, a little dazed, and he wondered where she had misplaced herself along the way. Then again, she was only twelve. She had plenty of time to find herself.

"Everything alright Melly?" he asked, ready for some amusing anecdote. Melly was normally full of them, although the humor of her words was regularly lost on her.

She gave a loud sigh, as Erin continued to set the glasses at each spot at the table. "I'm just so sweaty! I _hate_ summer. I can't even read without the pages sticking to me."

Nick smirked, in a loving manner of course. He almost envied Melly; if this was the largest of her problems, he figured she was doing quite alright for herself. In through the door came the rest of the crew, their eyes bleary with sleep, but their stomachs rumbling with hunger. Katie and Lily with their wispy blonde hair pulled into a bun on top of their heads, nearly attacked the stack of pancakes that their father had just set out.

"I am _starving_!" Lily nearly screamed. Melly and Erin winced.

It wasn't long before the entire table was full, pancakes had been distributed and everyone was eating away merrily. There was light chatter at the table, Nick seemingly drawing out elusive details about all of his daughters' lives. His attention was soon turned to Janie.

"I hear you've met a nice boy Janie?"

Janie's eyes instantly fell on Erin, and even though there was no malice in them, she instantly felt like a traitor. Janie smiled slightly, showing much more confidence than Erin had been expecting.

"His name is Clay."

"Ohhhhh," Lily let out childishly and in such a way that the rest had to let out a laugh. It was just such a Lily response.

"What does he look like?" Katie asked.

"We would be able to know, you know, if dad would have let _us_ go to the party," Lily reminded.

"Lily, you're twelve. I garuntee you that you will have enough parties of your own to miss without having to count on Erin's and Janie's."

Erin and Janie both chuckled, while Lily huffed indignantly.

"Was he cute?" Lily repeated.

Melly rolled her eyes, and Janie refused to comment.

The rest of the breakfast passed, for the most part harmoniously. Lily and Katie fought over the last Pilsbury cinnamon roll, while Melly left early to escape to the cooler part of the house to read in peace. Janie picked up the dishes, since it was her turn to clean up, and Nick helped put things away. It left Erin to her music. She walked quietly to the study, her mother's old songbook in her hands. It was more of a comfort thing really – she had long ago memorized all of them and no longer need the book at all.

Erin had added to the back of the book – only three songs, one of which was Sydney's song, her very first, and the other two had been from earlier that year. Her inspiration was seemingly limited and the other two were far from perfect. Still they were hers, like her own children, and she looked upon them with pride and happiness. Erin had of course tried to write a song about her mother many times, but she never seemed to be able to get it right. All the note combinations she found just didn't do her mother's memory justice. And she couldn't bring herself to write a song that would be anything less than perfection.

She played a few pieces, mixes of her own mothers and other composers, in order to soothe her. She couldn't quite get the images from the night before out of her mind. Nor what she had overheard. She struck the next note with too much violence as she thought about the entire thing.

After dancing, she and Carly had made their way to the kitchen – Carly needed to replenish her drink. Erin at that point in time had already stopped drinking, but just went along with her friend anyway. They soon sat on the counters, and just chatted and gossiped lightly, Carly supplying most of the dirt. It was during one of the rare lulls in their conversation that they overheard deep, male sounding voices coming from just outside the kitchen door. Most likely, the two were waiting in line for the bathroom, which was just outside the kitchen. Erin and Carly would not have given it a second thought had not Janie's name been mentioned.

"She's beautiful," the voice said, and although slightly muffled, the tone declared that it was quite heartfelt.

"Yes, she's easily the _only _attractive girl here. But really, Clay – they're eighteen. I'm too old for fucking high school parties." This voice was harsh – and easily recognizable. It was Clay's friend, William Dalton, the guy who had been so rude to Carly and had continued to look about the entire place as though he was above it and the people there.

"Jesus, Dalton, it's not _that_ bad," Clay cut in. "And there's some other cute girls – like Janie's sister. I think her name was Erin."

At this point in time, Erin had smiled slightly, a bit flattered.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Erin's smile was wiped away.

"No, I'm not."

A laugh. "No thanks Clay. You can stay here with the jail-bait, but I'm going back home."

Erin had been miffed, but laughed it off. Carly assured her that William Dalton was "an absolute jackass" and that she shouldn't worry or take offense. And of course, Erin knew this was true. Still, it's a sensitive topic for every girl and Erin couldn't help but feel the sting of the insult, even the morning after. Of course, she would get over it quickly – but she certainly wouldn't forgive Dalton for such a remark. _At least,_ she thought as she hit the keys still a bit too harshly, _I won't have to deal with him again._

After struggling in vain to write something she liked, Erin left the piano room behind her. She was having a hard time concentrating. In fact, she didn't feel much like herself at all. There was only one thing to do in such a situation; go for a run.

While Janie preferred walking to running, and Melly just thought physical exercise was horrible, Erin loved running even more than walking, even if she did it much less. It was a time where she got to think about nothing or anything at all. It was a boundless time, a time to feel and breathe, time to think about anything or absolutely nothing; it was all up to the discretion of the runner themselves. She changed quickly, grabbed her orange iPod nano and was out the door, her shirt already damp with sweat the moment she left the front door.

* * *

It was days like today that Lily especially liked; that is, days when she was completely unquestioned, and thereby totally in charge of the proceedings. Being technically the youngest, it was a feeling that that Lily reveled in and enjoyed, mostly because she knew she shouldn't have any power at all; it was similar to the thief who steals not out of need but for the sake of thrill. By being in charge, Lily was defying some age old rule that only the elders possessed the wisdom and right to rule. That defiance, that refusal of accepting norms, made Lily giddy with pleasure. And Lily, like most of us, also simply enjoyed getting her way, something which her twin Katie nearly always allowed.

Katie was just fine being ordered and bossed about more so out of habit than anything else. She had long ago learned that it was easier to just accept and go along with what Lily said, rather than challenge her and endure her subsequent wrath. The two were currently watching reality TV shows in their bedroom, painting their nails and giggling throughout commercials, their chatter rife with meaningless gossip of the average twelve year old girl; the news of who had kissed who, who was going to the dance with who, and what they would wish for if they only had one wish.

Of course, the last topic prompted much discussion, as such a question surely should. "I'd wish for Brent Dennis to ask me to the Homecoming dance… even if it is a whole summer away," Lily sighed, as she wiped a smudge of pink finger nail polish off her skin.

"Me too," Katie agreed a bit overzealously to make up for the fact that her thoughts had strayed elsewhere when she had first heard the question.

Katie cared little for Brent Dennis, and Lily, ironically cared even less. What they both ardently wished for, something they were both too afraid to admit, especially to each other, was just a glimpse of their dead mother alive once again, with all her imposing beauty that they had only seen represented in the photographs that their father kept in albums in the family room, stacked up neatly on the wooden shelves. All they really wanted was to bring her back, even if only for mere seconds, to try to know her, and at the very least, to see a little piece of themselves in her, whether it be in her bearing, her smile, or the gleaming, peaceful gaze that sometimes adorned her face in the well worn pictures they each secretly stole away to, the one that they couldn't understand yet wanted so desperately to replicate.


End file.
